


i’m tryna make you mine

by todareistodo



Category: Men's Football RPF
Genre: Anal Sex, England National Team, Liverpool F.C., M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-07
Updated: 2019-04-07
Packaged: 2020-01-06 07:35:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,900
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18383888
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/todareistodo/pseuds/todareistodo
Summary: trent’s more invested in his own performance than jordan’s goal. jordan wants to take his mind off it





	i’m tryna make you mine

**Author's Note:**

> i got bored
> 
> set after southampton v liverpool 
> 
> half the details are poetic license

 

“I played shit, and you fucking scored!”

 

“You got an assist in, Trent, c’mon.”

 

“I got subbed off! I was shite!”

 

Jordan rubs a hand across the bridge of his nose. When Trent had suggested he come over, he assumed it had been to celebrate his goal, not placate Trent and his mounting anger at his poor performance. Trent’s pacing around his hotel room, eyes growing increasingly large and wild. His mouth is contorted in a twisted little pout, bottom lip hanging out.

 

Jordan had opened the door to see Trent typing furiously on his phone, shirtless. His shoulder blades jutted out under the expanse of smooth, hairless skin and when he turned round to chuck a half-hearted smile at Jordan’s entry, Jordan could see every muscle move beautifully, almost imperceptibly. He’s started to notice, however.

 

Now, Trent’s lack of clothing is going ignored in favour of his building rant. He’s really gaining momentum, jabbing a finger in Jordan’s direction and running blunt nails through his hair, muttering to himself and getting louder when he wants Jordan’s input. Jordan is trying his best not to roll his eyes, determined to let Trent work this out of his system without the added incentive to be bratty that would accompany Jordan making fun of him.

 

“Trent, love, it was one bad performance in a million decent ones. Everyone’s gonna have an off day, and I’m saying that as your captain. Listen to your fucking captain.”

 

Trent starts, turning to look at Jordan properly, for the first time, mouth parting slightly. He has this small little smile on his face, a cheeky smirk that makes Jordan positively grin, teeth digging into the thick of his lip as he watches Trent’s mind whirring. Trent shuffles closer, bare feet scuffing over the carpet until he’s looking down at Jordan perched on the edge of the bed. Smirking.

 

“Shocking, that.” Trent mutters. “Throwing your weight around. Shocking.”

 

Jordan’s sure his grin is becoming positively menacing. His blood has been running vaguely hot since he first saw Trent shirtless, and his whining rant did little to help matters. He hooks an arm around Trent’s waist, the slim hips fitting easily in his grasp, and pulls. Trent stumbles a little after his grip, legs spreading to straddle Jordan awkwardly. Jordan chuckles and uses his grip on Trent’s arse to settle him nicely in his lap, long legs spread around Jordan’s thick thighs, arse warm and sweet in his hands.

 

“What d’you want, Trent?” Jordan mutters, kneading his arse absentmindedly as he stares at his full lower lip.

 

Trent rolls his eyes and brings his hands up to thread around Jordan’s neck, fingers playing through the short hair at the back of his head, thumb drifting along his hairline and smoothing over the skin.

 

“You’re not gonna get me to do some porn script.” He tells Jordan matter-of-factly. “‘ _Fuck_ _me_ , please, _stuff_ _me_ full _of_ _cock_ , _spank_ _me_ , _Daddy_ ’” He’s affected a high pitched, exaggerated groan of a voice, overly simpering and very clearly joking but Jordan’s only human, and he can’t help the way his breath stutters and his grip on Trent’s arse grows tighter. Trent’s eyes grow wide before he slams a hand against Jordan’s chest.

 

“You’re gross!”

 

Jordan laughs. “That’s the second time you’ve said Daddy. I’ll start to think you like it.”

 

Trent’s eyebrows knit together, face growing stony and Jordan definitely needs to contain his laughter before Trent throws a strop and storms away, leaving them both hard and needy. He looks about to slide off, stomp away, definitely tell Jordan to fuck off so Jordan clumsily pulls his own shirt off, smiling smugly as he feels the heat of Trent’s gaze.

 

“D’you always wear this?” Trent asks quietly, clammy hand clasped around the cross swinging from Jordan’s neck.

 

Jordan tilts his chin down to watch Trent fiddle with it, amazed that they haven’t yet touched each other skin on skin. It’s like they’re building up to it, drawing it out. Jordan’s vibrating with the anticipation, but for now, he humours Trent.

 

“You see me shirtless all the time, love.” He reminds him. “You know how much I wear it.”

 

Trent very obviously ignores his comment, continuing to hold it tight in his hand. Once he grows bored with that, he finally starts to touch Jordan, fingertips trailing over the tattoo on his side, nails tracing the lines. It tickles but Jordan tries not to shy away from the touch, content to let Trent explore at his own pace because he’s blessedly quiet and very sweet to watch.

 

“What do you want, though, love?”

 

Trent looks sheepish, a little nervous, nibbling at his lip as he stares at Jordan from under his eyelashes like he’s trained to work grown men undone. He’s still stroking a palm along Jordan’s ribs, other hand clasped over his shoulder. Jordan’s hands haven’t left Trent’s arse since they sat down.

 

“I want you to fuck me.” He rushes out, words blurring into one long mutter. “Don’t keep asking!”

 

Jordan giggles and noses under Trent’s jaw, finally letting himself have what he wants and sucking a bruise into his throat, soothing it with his tongue, then kissing it better. Trent’s breathing fastens just a little, fingers twitching against his skin.

 

“Consent, Trent.” He teases and, before Trent gets a chance to roll his eyes or whine, presses their lips together softly, letting Trent dictate the pace, which he does, immediately opening his mouth to allow Jordan to lick into it, already messy. Trent’s kisses are sloppy, definitely lead by enthusiasm over skill and it makes Jordan’s heart clench, his skin prickle. He’s already so far gone on Trent it’s a little concerning, but Trent’s finesse has puttered out into desperate neediness within minutes now, so maybe that’s okay.

 

Jordan smooths a hand over Trent’s arse, pulling gently at the waistband of his joggers until they’re stuck on his thighs, tight grey boxers doing nothing to hide the shape of his cock as it hardens. Jordan’s mouth dries, desperate to see it again, pretty and dripping like it was last time. Maybe if Trent’s good, he’ll taste him.

 

“If you’re good, I’ll suck your dick.”

 

Trent’s eyebrows raise cheekily, rushing to shove down his pants and joggers so he’s naked and waiting in Jordan’s lap. Jordan laughs just a little, still unrecovered from the sheer absurdity of getting to see Trent like this. He thinks Trent feels the same, because sometimes in training he’ll stare dazedly at Jordan and then smile wistfully, shyly when they make eye contact. Will look at Jordan’s arms when they sit next to each other on the team bus and sigh. Will find any excuse to press a kiss along his cheekbones, even if just for a forgotten second.

 

“Take ‘em off, Hendo.” Trent whines, shoving insistent hands along his waistband. Jordan winks, barks with laughter when that makes Trent roll his eyes, and pulls everything down, cock already hard and curving towards his stomach. Trent stares at it again, mouth parting.

 

“You’ve seen it before!” Jordan teases.

 

Trent shrugs petulantly. “Shut up, I know, but fuckin’ hell.”

 

If Jordan were a man to blush, he thinks he probably would at that, especially when Trent wraps a hand around him and strokes him roughly just to feel the heat and weight of him, smirking to himself and looking entirely too pleased. It makes Jordan grin.

 

Trent’s pushing a little more insistently into his hands around his arse, grinding his own cock down onto Jordan’s as harshly as he can manage, thigh muscles flexing as he works himself down. Jordan’s content to let him for a bit, enjoying the way his breathing picks up pace and volume, how pretty his cock looks as it starts to drip against his.

 

“Get lube, love.” He prompts.

 

Trent startles and looks faintly pissed off that he got caught out, but stumbles off Jordan’s lap anyway, rummaging around in his bag for lube and a foil packet which he flings in Jordan’s general direction, already settling back into the duvet and demanding Jordan moves too. He kisses him demandingly, hard and uncompromising, and it leaves them both panting. Jordan’s sure he’s leaving bruises in the dip of Trent’s hip with how tightly he’s gripping onto him.

 

“C’mon, c’mon.” Trent whines, urges. “Hendo.”

 

Jordan laughs, kisses along Trent’s jaw, his neck, clavicle. He sucks Trent’s nipple gently, his broken little whimper making something dark and all consuming stir in the base of his stomach.

 

“Stop teasing.” Trent’s already reverted to drawing out his vowels, which Jordan knows is a dangerous sign.

 

“Patience, lad.” He teases, but he douses three fingers in lube anyway and slides down the bed, pulling Trent’s legs onto his shoulders. Trent’s heaving for breath, sweat prickling and shining along his hairline, mouth hanging open and nipples hard. He’s whining without saying much, pushing with no force at any part of Jordan he can get to, and he’s doing it all for him. That never ending affection is starting to make Jordan’s chest hurt.

 

“Hang on. D’you _shave_ , Trent?”

 

Jordan can’t stop himself from staring, his cock absolutely throbbing at the sight. Trent’s completely hairless, skin smooth and so soft, pink and too tight Jordan aches imagining how it’ll feel to push into him.

 

Trent whimpers, and shakes his head, tries to, but Jordan knows.

 

“Did you do it for me, love?” Jordan pushes, dipping just a fingertip into his hole, feeling his body clench and beg for him. “You’re so pretty, Trent. So pretty.”

 

Trent’s positively sweating now, hiding his face in the pillows as he whines and whines and whines. Jordan can tell he’s embarrassed, tittering on the point of aroused so dangerously that it must be overwhelming. His cock’s dripping against the smooth, flat plane of his stomach and he’s grinding down endlessly on Jordan’s fingers massaging his rim gently. Jordan knows his own cock will be just as hard, and it’s reminding him of it just as painfully.

 

“I’ll eat you out next time.” He promises, kissing the smooth skin next to his hole before pushing the first finger into the knuckle, forcing a choked moan out of Trent that he muffles into the pillow.

 

“I swear to fucking _God_ , Hendo, you better hurry up.”

 

Jordan barks with laughter for longer than necessary, unable to stop laughing and slowly Trent giggles a little too, a sweet bubble of sound that Jordan rewards with a kiss on his thigh, then a bruise. He slides in a second finger and works to find his spot, fucking in relentlessly and leaving Trent panting, himself short of breath already.

 

“Do it now, Jordan, please, now.”

 

Jordan nods, mouth dry, licking his lips to keep himself under control. He fucks his fingers into Trent a few minutes longer, just to be sure, stroking along his prostrate finally and feeling his body clench up tight around the knuckles, before he rolls the condom on, slicks himself up and stops himself just before he loses control.

 

“Trent, love, d’you wanna ride me?”

 

Jordan’s spent weeks thinking about this, this exact moment, how Trent would react and what he’ll want. He knows that the things that make Trent’s cheeks heat and his eyes roll are the things that turn him on the most, he knows that he likes it a little rough even if he’d be devastated at the suggestion. He knows Trent will always want to be able to see him, for reassurance and the sloppy kisses he likes and so he can be sure Jordan sees every eye roll he graces him with. Trent’s too good to get it on his knees anyway.

 

Trent nods, smiles almost thankfully like he’s pleased Jordan guessed right, and smooths a hand along Jordan’s jaw, holds him in place for a slow minute. It’s almost romantic, especially as he presses a sugarsweet kiss to Jordan’s lips.

 

All before he swings a leg over Jordan’s waist and sinks down on his cock like it’s absolutely nothing.

 

“Jesus fucking Christ.” Jordan groans, voice hoarse with the effort of containing himself. Trent is so hot and tight around him, arse resting on Jordan’s thighs, smirking down at Jordan and very proud of himself for effectively taking Jordan’s breath away.

 

“Or you can call me Trent.” He jokes, so Jordan smacks his arse and gets his own laugh as Trent’s cock twitches against his tummy and his breath stutters.

 

“Oh, darlin’.” He chuckles patronisingly, grinning when it leads Trent to start moving in retaliation.

 

Jordan can see the muscle in Trent’s thighs moving under the skin as he works himself down, bouncing up and down so roughly Jordan knows it must hurt. His rim already feels swollen and used, slick with lube when Jordan circles it with his finger just to hear Trent’s whimper.

 

“I’ll fuck you bare next time.” Jordan pushes, growing slack-jawed at the thought and having to work very hard to control himself. Trent must feel Jordan’s cock twitch inside him because he smirks and moans in one, because of course he’d be capable of that, and starts pushing himself up and down Jordan’s dick faster.

 

Jordan pushes his fingertips back into the thick of Trent’s arse again, feeling it’s heat where he slapped him, so soft everywhere even with his slender muscle. He can’t help but smack him again, just once on each side to feel how it grows hot and makes Trent stutter in his movements. He wonders if he’ll leave fingertip shaped bruises along his hips, in the muscle of his thigh, handprints marked into his arse maybe. He hopes so, selfishly.

 

“Stop being a lazy bastard.” Trent groans, slamming himself down and pushing needy hands against Jordan’s chest.

 

Jordan shakes his head and tuts to hide the way he feels so devastatingly jealous of whoever taught Trent to move like this, whoever helped him learn to take cock like he is Jordan’s, whoever was his first. But then, Jordan supposes the first doesn’t matter when Jordan’s Trent’s now.

 

“ _Hendo_.” Trent says warningly and Jordan has to snap out of his reverie, gripping Trent’s waist to push his own hips up, pull Trent up and down, fuck him properly so his mouth slides open, hands scrambling for _something_ to cope with the way Jordan is fucking perfectly into his prostrate.

 

“Touch yourself for me.” Jordan pants, nodding towards Trent’s dick leaking a ridiculous amount of precome and neglected until now. Trent nods distractedly, wrapping a hand around himself and stroking rough and fast, so completely gone now Jordan feels so satisfied he managed to cause it. Trent’s still so tight around him, body squeezing as he tries to drag out their pleasure, but Jordan knows he’s on the edge, trying so hard not to fall off it.

 

“Trent, love, it’s okay. You can come for me.” It’s the first thing he’s said all night that’s not teasing or jokey; his voice is soothing and gentle because he knows how desperately Trent wants to be good, and there’s some thing’s he needs to be reassured of. “I want you to come for me. You can.”

 

Trent shakes his head a little, lost and disorientated in his pleasure but Jordan knows he’s fighting a losing battle, because Jordan only has to stroke the dripping head with his finger for Trent to come in four spurts over his stomach. Trent moans so prettily, body falling lax immediately until Jordan licks at the come on his fingers and _mmm_ ’s at the taste.

 

“Minging, that.” He mumbles, but his eyes are wide and molten. “You’re minging.”

 

“Thanks, love.” Jordan laughs, nuzzling under Trent’s jaw. “Are you too sore?”

 

Trent flushes a little and it makes Jordan’s heart burst but he shakes his head and rests against Jordan’s chest, body rising and falling steadily as his heartbeat levels out, to let Jordan gently thrust into the still clenching heat of his body. The pleasure of it is slow now, something that spreads through to his fingertips and tingles. Jordan presses a kiss to Trent’s hairline that makes Trent make a sweet little snuffling noise against his chest, thrusting up three more times carefully before he comes in waves. He feels absolutely exhausted when his body finally relaxes back into the duvet.

 

“Well done, love.” Jordan mumbles into Trent’s hair, feeling him press that little bit closer in response.

 

“Your goal was amazing, Hendo. I’m sorry I didn’t say. I was proper excited.”

 

Jordan’s chest pulls tight and he has to hide his grin in Trent’s hair again because it’s far too bright and hurts his cheeks far too much to be shown to anyone else. He has an arm slung around Trent’s waist, fingertips resting on the curve of his arse. Their legs are tangled together, Trent splayed across his side with Jordan’s cock still softening inside him.

 

“We’re gonna be all gross, c’mon.”

 

Trent whines into his chest but nods his head and peels himself away, smiling to himself. Jordan can’t help himself from slapping his arse as he shuffles off the bed and barks with laughter when Trent turns around and fixes him with a reproachful death glare. He feels completely sated, a little bit in love maybe, but he doesn’t think anyone needs to know that just yet. Trent will work it out soon enough.

**Author's Note:**

> hope you enjoyed! comments welcome as always
> 
> i’m writing a dele/eric chaptered fic in an attempt to curb my posting so that’ll be next x


End file.
